Barneswald One-Shots and AUs
by Barneswald
Summary: One-shots for Bucky Barnes and Clara Oswald. Prompts/ideas accepted, but the author has the right to decide which will be written.
1. Chapter 1: Thanksgiving

"I wasn't ready for this, and now you've _broken the turkey_, and-"

"I didn't _break the turkey_!" Bucky protested, shaking the carving knife furiously as half the turkey dangled from its tip. "I just got a little overzealous with carving it!"

Clara huffed, her hair pulled back into a frazzled bun. She leaped towards the oven as the timer blared loudly, and Bucky sighed as she fumbled with oven mitts to try to pull out a slightly smoking sweet potato casserole.

"Why were you even carving it right now, anyway?!" she grumbled, waving the steam away from the browned sweet potatoes before shoving marshmallows over the top in an attempt to hide the burnt edges.

"Because… because I wanted the practice!" Bucky retorted, his metal hand darting into the oven without a mitt (it wasn't as if he needed one) to grab the pumpkin pies. Clara wedged herself beneath him to rescue the green bean casserole.

"If you wanted the practice," she grunted, prying the impaled turkey from his free hand, "you could have told me and I would have happily cooked another turkey for you to dissect."

"It's not the end of the world, Clara," he husband snapped, pulling the lid off the mashed potatoes and getting a face-full of scalding steam for his efforts. "And these need butter."

"You need patience," Clara retorted.

"You need to calm down. It's just Thanksgiving," Bucky sighed, pulling her away from the stove for a minute. He pulled off her apron, trapping her in his arms. "It's just Thanksgiving," he murmured again, kissing the top of her head.

"This is my first time trying to celebrate your American holiday," she protested feebly. "I just wanted to try to make it good for you."

"You have made it wonderful," he reassured her, stroking her hair back from her too-warm face. "You're here with me. There's nothing I'm more thankful for than that."

Clara sighed, straightening his tie. "Maybe next year you should let me carve the turkey."

"Maybe so," Bucky chuckled, leaning down to kiss her.


	2. Chapter 2: Mecha AU

Clara tucked her helmet under one arm, her limbs still aching from the injection of the movement trackers. Just under her skin, she saw silvery veins of cyber-chips that relayed every movement and mental order that would operate her mecha.

"Fifteen minutes until takeoff!" the Doctor barked. She jumped, unused to hearing him as a cold and distanced superior officer. Her eyes flitted nervously to the American pilots glancing just as curiously back at her. Would they think her less worthy simply because she was English?

"Clara."

She whirled around, glancing up in surprise as the Doctor scowled down at her with the strange mix of annoyance and fondness that only her best friend could muster. "You're the first pilot to work with the American pilots," he whispered, tutting in disapproval before yanking her helmet out of her grasp and settling it on her head. For one brief moment the vision enhancers focused on the second heart beating in the alien's chest, but she switched her controls to manual. "But this team isn't just Americans. They're the Avengers. You need to be careful around them."

"Are they dangerous or something?" she laughed nervously, flexing her fingers and feeling the low buzz begin to pulse through her body. Somewhere, her personal ship was coming awake and mimicking her actions. With a single thought, she told it to sleep a few more moments.

"Some of the most dangerous people in the universe, Clara Oswald," he replied grimly. "They defeated the Chitauri in New York all those years ago. It was only fitting that they become the pilots to fight back this invasion."

She gulped, glancing up at the Time Lord. "And I'm supposed to fight alongside them? The scariest people in the universe?"

"Well… I don't know if they're the _scariest_ people in the universe. I imagine I'd be given that title," the Doctor replied dryly. "Though you can be pretty frightening yourself."

"Oh, shut up," she retorted, strapping her helmet tightly to her head.

"…Connie?"

The alien and his companion glanced over their shoulders. A man stood behind him, curious blue eyes staring out of a haggard, yet handsome face. He stared unabashedly at Clara. "You're… Connie."

She smiled hesitantly. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

He stepped closer, and her gaze flitted down to a metal hand peeking out from his black jacket. On his human hand she saw the pulsating silver veins that meant he was a pilot as well. "Are you an Avenger?" she asked, extending her hand politely.

"I'm back-up," he replied dryly. "Not deemed suitable for fieldwork. Too broken." He stepped closer, tilting his head. "I'd remember your face anywhere, Connie. But… how are you here?"

"I'm not Connie, whoever you think she is," Clara laughed nervously. "I'm Clara. Clara Oswald. The British pilot."

"You were American," he replied stubbornly. Clara glanced up at the Doctor pleadingly, only to see him staring back at her, his mouth half-open.

"Doctor, tell him," she whispered.

"I can't, Clara," the alien whispered, his eyes narrowing. "You are Connie."


	3. Chapter 3: Star Trek AU

"Get up to the main bridge, and switch all remaining generator power to life support!" Bucky barked, nodding brusquely at Romanoff and Stark. "You know what to do."

"If we don't pass out on the way up," Stark quipped, a blanket wrapped tightly around his head. The cool-headed Russian woman nodded back curtly, her red curls bouncing around her shoulders as she jogged away. Clara whirled around, glaring up at the brooding man acting as the captain.

"I won't let you do this," she hissed.

Bucky glanced down, his face pale in the dim light of the generator. Clara pulled her blanket closer around her shoulders, shivering in the sub-freezing temperatures."I'm first officer, sweetheart," he replied through clenched teeth. "You can't give me orders." He cast her a wry grin before continuing on his quest to personally wrap a blanket around every crewman or woman on board.

Jumping from foot to foot in an attempt to keep her circulation, she stomped after him. "So you're not even going to attempt self-preservation?!"

"You're one to talk, Clara!" Bucky snapped, scowling down at the pale, almost lifeless form of Barton. "How many times have you taken a stun blast or a kick to the head or volunteered to throw your life around like its worthless?!"

"I'm just the communications officer, _sir_. You're the acting captain! Steve- I mean, Captain Rogers would _never_ allow you to do the exterior repairs when he knows with what little generator power we have left that you'll never safely make it back inside! The emergency oxygen we have left for the suit will barely last ten minutes!"

"Guess I'd better not waste much time talking to you, then, should I?" Bucky smirked at her, but his blue eyes were devoid of any humor.

"Let me do it. I won't take up as much oxygen, so I'll have more time to finish the repairs," Clara insisted, her heart pounding in her chest in a desperate attempt to provide what little oxygen was left in the ship to her brain.

"I can hold my breath for a long time. You should know; you've kissed me," he retorted brightly. She frowned at him, angry tears welling in her eyes.

"So that's it? I'm just supposed to let my husband bumble out into space and watch as he slowly suffocates?" she shrieked, grabbing onto his shirt as she glared up at him.

"Sweetheart," he whispered softly, stroking her hair. "You don't have to watch me."

Her eyes widened in surprise as a needle sank into her arm, her brain sluggishly realizing that he was placing her into a deep sleep where she'd require much less oxygen.

"I'm… going… to kill…you," she mumbled, her speech slurring as her eyes drooped shut.

"There won't be any need for that," Bucky murmured, kissing her forehead gently. "I love you, you know."


	4. Chapter 4: Mr & Mrs Smith AU

Clara blinked, gasping for air from exhaustion as she steadily kept the gun pointed at Bucky's face. "I could shoot you now," she whispered, wishing her voice didn't tremble. His own gun was pointed at her, and she realized there was no way out of this alive. They were too well-matched. Even if she shot him, he could kill her before she could leave.

But that wasn't why she couldn't seem to pull the trigger.

The sudden clatter of his gun against the floor startled her. Bucky held his hands up in surrender, backing away slowly. "I'm not going to shoot you," he said softly, bright blue eyes downcast as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I should shoot you, you know," Clara retorted, her hands beginning to shake. "You're working for Hydra!"

He glanced up sharply. "They forced me, Clara! They broke me, and they wiped my mind, and…." He trailed off, his chest heaving with emotion. "Please. I couldn't bear to see you hurt."

"You expect me to believe that the top-trained assassin of Hydra would let me walk out of here alive?" Clara scoffed, steadying her gun as they circled each other, although her husband kept his hands up in surrender.

"Well, Hydra wasn't expecting their top-trained assassin to fall in love with the top SHIELD agent," Bucky replied wryly. She narrowed her eyes at him, scooping up his gun and pointing both at him.

"Why should I believe you're in love with me?" Clara whispered, regretting her question as soon as it had left her mouth. Don't show weakness to a Hydra agent. Don't let him know that… just maybe, you love him too.

"Because I would rather die then hurt you again," Bucky replied softly. "I will face Hydra's torture again if it means you're safe. But I'd rather you shoot me. I don't want them to wipe me again. I don't want to come after you again and not remember who you are, or what you mean to me." He gulped, slowly stretching a hand out to her. "So go ahead." He bowed his head, inhaling deeply. "You should be safe."

She blinked rapidly, her finger slowly moving to the triggers.

Normally she didn't even blink when she squeezed a trigger. This time, her eyes were tightly shut, listening to Bucky's soft gasp as the shots echoed.

When she opened her eyes, Bucky was staring at her in confusion, his eyes flickering down to the floor, which she had just shot. "There are Hydra agents downstairs," she mouthed. "I just shot them," she continued.

"You… don't want me dead?" he asked slowly, the beginnings of a grin growing on his face.

"This doesn't mean you're out of the dog house," she scoffed, tossing a gun back to him. He dropped it again, grabbing her wrist and pulling into a tight embrace, his chuckle loud and warm as her head lay against his chest. "Shut up," she grumbled.

"I'll shut you up," Bucky retorted, kissing her soundly on the mouth.

"You do realize we're going to have to be on the run now, right?" Clara mumbled as he twirled her around the room.

"Yeah, but this time I'm running with you, not after you," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her again.


End file.
